Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1887-07-26
The Lonely Little Grave.
4 Sad Story .fcoa tie Prains Of The
Wad, URtanled West.
[FroIn the Dakota Bell.l


From the Dakota BeIl.I
Did you ever come suddenly upon
n grave off on the prarie, far from
any human habitation? Nothing
can seem more, sad and lonely than
such a grave, with the simmer wind
bending and waving. the tall grass
With a low murmhring harmony;
which yod can just hear Il you lis
ten closely, like far-off music.
/ remember finding s1cha grave
a little one-a number of years agof
in then almost unsettled portion of
Dakota. 1t was ten miles to tile
nearest house. But there was q
board at the head and foot-it was
less than three feet long-and an
attempt at fence around it. It
was not an old grave and there was
little wild rose bush growing on it,
but the soil was so dry that it was
not fourishing, and it had but one
little, withered bud, while on the
surrounding prairies the roses were
all in bloom, making 1t seem almost
like n garden.
/ rode twenty miles beyond before
I came to house. Here man was
working near little new board
Is shack" 1 got into conversation
with him and asked If he knew about
the little grave.
"'Bout fifteen miles this side o.
where the town is started now, an
near little mound2'
+" Yes" .
I" Our little boy is buried there
the only child we had. He died there
when we were movin' into the couni
try a month ago, an 1 buried him
there with my own hands, an tid-
body with me 'cept my wife-and
the hosses; the hosses looked on
an we come away. an left him. I'm
goin' back after him soon, an we'll
make him little grave near our new
home, where it won't be Sc lonesome
for the little feller."
Was he sick long?'' ...
(" Less'n q week. He was took
sick one afternoon, dhd the next day
it hurt him to ride in the wagon, au'
so we stopped there with him. He
grew worse an nothing my wife or
me could do seemed to help him any,
so took ore of the hosses and rode
fifty miles to the nearest town. The
doctor couldn't go out, but he sent
some medicine, an / vent baeR as
fast as could. My wife was all
alone there on the prairie in the COW
cred wagon, an the little feller KEEP,
growin' worse. He seemed to know
he was goin' to die, AM all day he
keep askir when papa was comm.
my wifcset. am held his head In her
lap am KEEP teilin' him papa would
come pretty soon. Sometimes he
would drop into feverish sleep, an
then he would start up an say
Mamma, amt papa tum yeti
want to see him?' An she soothed
him the best she could, an tried to
hide her tears.
81 got there jes' fore stnfise. The
sky was all red an mighty fine look
in, an the wind was still, an the
grass an little spring flowers all wet
with dew. My wife heard me out4
side, an 1 heard her say that papa
had come. An 1 stepped up an
crawled into the front of the wagon
an he raised up his head little, an
his great big eyes were open awful
wide, an he held out his hands TO
me an said: Use waitin' for 90,
papa; 90 was gone awful longi' An.
1 kneIt by his side where his mother
was holdin' his head in her lap, an
his eyes wandered an looked out
the front of the wagon at the bootifui
red sky, an once he stretched out
his arms little an then the sun
come up an he shut his eyes an my
wife took hold o. my hand an We
both knowed he was gone, jes' as the
sun come up.
"We did the best we could, burtih'
him there in a rough box made;
cause I didn't kH6w how fur we
might go, an, 1 told you, I'm going
back pretty soon an bring him herei
where it Won't be so lonesome fot
the poor little feller."